I'm comfortable here. I've grown knowledgeable about places to eat, people to meet and monuments to visit. I know the corners, the nooks and the crannies. I know the bookstore on the corner of P and 20th street. The one that I've spent my lunch hours scouring. I know the National Cathedral down by Woodley Park. The one I run to in the mornings to get a headstart on the day, stammering as I look up to see the towering spires. I know the doorman of my apartment. The one with the most genuine of all smiles. I know the smell of my shirt as I come home from the pizzeria. The one that embeds itself into my skin forcing me to take a shower. I know the feel of the rain pouring over my ankles as I bike in the puddles. The one that makes me soaked through to the bone. I know the taste of inspiration as I surround the monument of Abe Lincoln. The one that is felt among my neighbors overlooking the great figure in front of us. I know the sound of the Metro train as it hauls to a stop. The one that cues a safe hello train or goodbye platform. I know this and that and the other thing here. It's like having a feeling of I could make it here if I stayed.
I think I've reached the plateau. The plateau of my journey in DC. Things are constant now and I have my bearings. I have two jobs, good friends, fun places and a routine. That's really all I need. This plateau is a good one, it's one I was told about before arriving here. I heard it would be difficult at first but soon it would plateau. And it has. Every morning I wake up to the same alarm in the same bed trying to rush in order to make the same breakfast. Then I ride the same bike on the same streets to the same employment. The sameness is nice and it's constant and I have a great view from here.
While the plateau exists, I feel uncertain in its stability because of the constant newness that DC has in store for me. It's big and ever-changing here. People are moving in and out. Young people are starting over and trying to get their big break. Pedestrians are filing past me as I walk and the faces always blend together. No longer remembering their every detail, the passerbys, they are just blurs. Not having time to slow, the memory adjusts to the blurs in order to get a picture. A picture of being content but always wanting and seeing more. That's what I appreciate about this place. There is constant newness to be found and while a plateau now exists in which to rest, it is nice to know that in my final stretch here, for now, I am able to see the picture in the blur.